


Wet Husband

by merryfortune



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Yokai, Fantasy Feudal Japan, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 16:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8168093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Once upon a time there was a foolish traveller, a woodsman by trade, named Makoto. His most defining characteristic was his big heart so one day, when he saw a boy at risk of drowning, he had to take responsibility but what followed was such something far stranger: marriage.





	

   ‘Makoto, are you listening? I’m telling a story and as folks of the river and ocean, it has a very important moral to it...’ his mother chided to Makoto and his young siblings.

   Excited eyes looked up.

   ‘Come on, nii-chan, I wanna listen to the story.’ Ren and Ran begged; their voices out of synch with each other.

   Makoto groaned as he sat up to pay attention to his mother’s story. It seemed a little pointless to him. He was more or less all grown up now. He didn’t have time for fairy tales.

   ‘Once upon a time, a foolish traveller met a young girl in the woods. She was sitting on the banks of a river after a horrible storm. The foolish traveller feared she may be injured so he rushed to her aid. She said she was alright, looked up at him with the brightest smile...’

* * *

 

   However, not even the brightest of smiles can change the weather but Makoto considered himself an optimistic so he bore one regardless in the hopes it would improve the situation. It was a miserable day to be trudging through dense forest. Makoto was an unfortunate traveller who was stuck between swathes of terrible storms; flashes of lightning and dreadful downpour. It was a cacophony outside but he was almost home.

   Makoto was a woodsman by trade. He was something of a disgrace to his family as they had all been fishermen and women but he couldn’t do it. He was too scared of what laid beyond the gentle shores. He was terrified by the ocean so he decided to find his business inland. He was lonely as he had to find new lodgings in a different town to make a decent living but his little, twin siblings and parents would visit when the fancy tickled them. His siblings adored him.

   It was because Makoto wasn’t good at listening to the wizened fisherman within him that he was caught in the storm. All his family had a good notion for when it was going to storm and when it was going to be fine. Thanks to that fear of the deep, Makoto hadn’t been lucky enough to develop that sixth sense.

   He looked up the sky. His smile did not falter despite the looming misfortune. The storm appeared to be growing more powerful by the second. There was a flash of lightning and it illuminated the drenched forest around him in blue-grey then once, it was gone, the forest was plunged into a never before seen darkness. Worse yet, his lantern was too drowned to function currently.

   Makoto continued to plod along. He was certain his home wasn’t too far now. He could make it before he got swept away in the downpour. He was certain.

   He strained his eyes and ears. He could see the outlines of familiar landmarks. He could smell the remnants of smoke in the air; doubtlessly from his own hearth that would still be burning from this morning.

   He grabbed onto a slimy, wet branch and held himself steady. The odour of the forest was overwhelming and he had exhausted himself; wandering too far from his house on a day like today. He really was unlucky. Makoto swears it’s not usually this rainy this time of year. It must be a curse or something.

Lightning struck once more; far into the distance and away from Makoto. In the brevity of illumination that spiralled out around it, Makoto realised he didn’t know where he was after all. After the lightning’s moment of life, it disappeared and through the clamour of the rain, Makoto could hear the tinkling of an unknown stream.

   He looked around. His eyes bleary and batting away fat raindrops. He needed somewhere safe to spend the night; to wear out the storm. He was in no condition to continue his blind search to home.

   Makoto bravely, or perhaps dumbly, moved towards the stream he could hear beneath the stormy ordinance. He fumbled through thick roots and grass and ended up at the bank of the stream. It was rocky here and Makoto found a cavern wrought of trees and rocks that he could nestle underneath. He balled himself up, uncomfortably, and kept his lantern near. It was surprisingly dry here but it seemed hopeless that he would fall asleep.

   Somehow, he did and he didn’t stir until he heard birds chirping. He woke to light in the morning. He could see the sun’s outline behind fluffy clouds and he had never been more grateful for such a sight. He grinned widely and knew he would get home safely today.

   He came out of hiding and picked up his lantern. He checked the logs he had managed to cut and they were still in great condition despite everything. Fortune had finally returned to Makoto from what it seemed so he set off again.

   Or at least he would have had he not seen a strange sight further down the stream.

   Further down the stream, it connected with a river that was mostly hidden by tall, verdant trees. It was also clogged up with rocks and standing atop of those rocks, was a boy. The way he stood, swaying and fixated on the turbulent water, caused Makoto to panic.

   Through mud and slurry, Makoto sprinted and got his feet caught on all manner of minor obstacles but he let nothing hold him back. He was fixated on that boy. He looked so small and helpless. Makoto couldn’t leave him be. Makoto dashed as fast as he could until he reached the crux of the stream.

   The boy was a handsome lad, older than Makoto first assumed, and appeared as being mute and expressionless. He was almost dead looking so Makoto was already assuming the worst. The boy dripped from head to toe with discoloured water. He stank of mildew and swamp water. He was pale and also completely nude with nothing covering him; except some kind of jewellery or decoration around his wrists and ankles. His jewellery caught the sun and shimmered blithely.

   ‘Are you alright?!’ Makoto shouted over the churn of river water.

   The boy looked up at him but it was like he stared right past Makoto.

   ‘Do you need help? Where are your parents?!’ Makoto shouted again.

   The boy grew disinterested. His eyes fell back to the murky, brown river.

   Makoto panicked. He stepped back, onto higher ground and stared in horror at the boy. The boy seemed entirely fixated on the water. He seemed entirely fixated on jumping. Makoto’s heart raced inside his chest as he swelled with the need to be responsible for this boy’s welfare. He took a deep breath.

   The river wasn’t that big... Makoto told himself. He swung his arms back and hoped that he was fit enough for what he planned. His legs burned. His heart raced and beat hard against his aching chest. He cursed himself and his big heart.

   He jumped.

   It was the most horrendous jump to ever be executed. Makoto flailed through the air and grabbed onto the rocks the boy was standing on. He gripped onto the rock and chewed at his hands. Moss curled against Makoto’s hands and made him vaguely squeamish but he persevered.

   The boy stared at him. Confusion thickened around him. Makoto held on tightly to the rock because his life depended on it. The water around him was excited and desperately wanted to drag him off to a watery death. Makoto kicked and scrambled and pulled himself onto the rock the boy stood on.

   The boy climbed onto a different one. Makoto got up and was impressed with himself. He honestly didn’t think he was going to make it. Even though he was terrified of the ocean, he could still swim although it had been many years. He had been lucky not to have caught himself on a submerged log or something so he thanked his lucky stars.

   ‘Are you okay?’ Makoto asked.

   ‘W-Why do you care?’ the boy mumbled; he didn’t face Makoto. He seemed embarrassed.

   ‘Well, wouldn’t someone be sad if you end up in an accident?’ Makoto asked and he extended his hand to the boy. He smiled softly. ‘I-If you don’t have anyone then, I would be sad if you ended up in an accident.’

   The boy faced Makoto and his eyes lit up. His eyes were as beautiful as gems and the colour of the ocean but they didn’t terrify Makoto. Makoto was absolutely mesmerised in by this boy’s eyes. They swirled and glimmered and glittered and it felt as though they were just as vivacious and alive as the sea.

   But that wasn’t possible. They were just human eyes after all. They just happened to be a particularly pretty shade of blue. There was nothing strange about that. It must be Makoto’s imagination; his fantasy.

   The boy smiled. His pale cheeks flushed pink. He had a very cute if shy smile.

   Makoto grinned. The smile was very much returned a hundred times.

   The boy accepted Makoto’s hand. His hands were cold and slimy. He was very wet. Makoto tightened his grip on the boy’s hand.

   ‘Now, let’s get you to safety. It’s very dangerous for us to be standing here.’ Makoto said.

   ‘You don’t need to patronise me.’ he pouted and crossed his arms. ‘We’re probably the same age. I’m probably older than you even.’

   ‘You must have one of those faces.’ Makoto replied; his tone apologetic. ‘C’mon, let’s get across to safety.’ As he said that, he felt something unusual on the boy’s wrist. He felt something seemed to be a lot like fish scales in hardness and sharpness.

   Makoto let go and a few minutes later, and a lot of panicking, he and the boy managed to get off the rocks and onto dry land.

   Makoto grinned, hands on hips. ‘So, I’m Tachibana Makoto. What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘I’m Haruka.’ the boy replied softly.

   ‘Hahaha, we’re the same. We both have feminine names. Anyway, I’m a wood cutter. I got lost last night trying to get through that terrible storm. I live alone out that way,’ Makoto indicted the north-eastern direction from where they were currently, ‘where do you live. Your family must be worried?’

   ‘I don’t have a family but I live in that direction too.’ Haruka replied.

   ‘What a coincidence. It’s strange we haven’t met before then.’ Makoto said.

   ‘I only live there because you live there.’ Haruka clarified but he only made his statement stranger.

   ‘I’m sorry?’ Makoto asked.

   ‘Well, as your bride, it’s only fitting that I live with you.’ Haruka continued. He glared at Makoto as though demeaning his intelligence. Haruka put his hands on his hips. Makoto tried not to stare. He didn’t want to seem impolite.

   ‘B-Bride?’ he echoed.

   ‘You returned my smile. It is inexplicable instinct for someone like myself that when that happens, we marry the traveller who smiled at us.’ Haru continued.

   That rang a bell in the back of Makoto’s mind. He could almost hear his mother tell him a story. Something about what Haruka was saying resonated with Makoto’s deep childhood memories.

   ‘What do you “someone like myself”?’ Makoto asked, uncertain.

   ‘I’m a Nure Onago.’ Haruka said.

   ...A wet bride.

   ‘Oh...’ Makoto said and he boldly let his eyes travel Haruka’s nude form. Those weren’t decorations on his wrists and ankles. Those were scales; light blue tinged green in colour actually. He had a smattering of scales across his shoulders too. His toes had webbing between them as well as claws. Now that Makoto was having a better look at him, he could see now that Haruka was quite fish-like or even amphibious in appearance.

   ‘Accept responsibility!’ Haruka demanded.

   ‘Okay, okay, my beautiful bride.’ Makoto teased.

   ‘B-Beautiful?’ Haruka echoed. His heart skipped a beat. He was a Nure Onago. Nure Onago weren’t a species to be called “beautiful”. Haruka trembled. He had a wonderful premonition. He had managed to ensnare a very lovely person with his smile, he realised.

   ‘You’re not having cold feet now, are you, Haru-chan?’ Makoto asked with a playful smile and closed eyes.

   Again, Haruka’s heart skipped a beat.

   ‘You’re not to call me “Haru-chan” – or “beautiful” – ever again. I’m going to make your life miserable, you know, you foolish human.’ Haruka rambled. ‘I’ll stink your house up and bring bad luck, you know.’

   ‘And I accept total responsibility for it then.’ Makoto replied.

   Makoto the woodsman then took his sopping wet bride home later that day. Haruka was very stubborn but Makoto was patient. Somewhere between that river and their home, they did fall in love though but Haruka was right: he did stink up the house, he made it smell of mildew and mould and swamp water and assortment of other nasty stenches but Makoto survives. He also brought bad luck from time to time but again, Makoto survived.

* * *

 

   ‘...and it was love at first sight. The foolish traveller returned the young girl’s smile with one just as crisp and cheerful. She latched onto him with a big hug but the traveller realised something. He realised there was something awfully peculiar about this young girl.

   ‘He realised she was not a young girl but a monster. She had claws and scales and fins. She stank of swamp water.

   ‘With a giggly voice, the young girl announced herself as a Nure Onago and as the foolish traveller’s new wife. The foolish traveller was smitten with her regardless so he took her home. But she destroyed his home with the stench of mould. She was always wet. She never stopped dripping with swamp water.

   ‘The foolish traveller desired to divorce her because she could give him on peace and no children... Makoto? Are you listening?’ his mother paused the story.

   His little siblings booed and threw a hissy-fit. Makoto sat, cross-legged, and crying.

   ‘How does this story end? Does it end meanly? I thought they were in love!’ Makoto wailed.

   Perhaps he was not as grown up as he thought he was. He blubbered terribly and his younger siblings, enamoured with the story, stared at him as though he were moronic. His mother sighed; endeared by how big-hearted her eldest son could be.

   ‘Okay, okay, they were in love.’

   ‘So that means they lived happily ever then?’ Makoto asked.

   ‘Yes, I suppose they did. The foolish traveller and the Nure Onago lived happily ever after...’ his mother said, exasperated. ‘Just promise me, you will never bring a monster home.’

   Makoto failed to make the promise for he was too busy upset the foolish traveller and the Nure Onago couldn’t have a happy, wed life. Perhaps that is a good thing as the family did not know, that cold rainy evening, that one day, Makoto would indeed grow up to be a foolish traveller who brings on a strange bride that smelt of mildew and swamp water; had scales, and most importantly: was male.

   And did this second coming of the foolish traveller and his Nure Onago live happily ever after?

   They did. They lived until a very blissful end.


End file.
